How Much Longer?
by SomeStrangeDay
Summary: One-shot. Lily is abused by her family, though no one knows, and she believes no one can help her. Who will be her saving grace? Rated T for mentioned abuse and very slight cussing.


**Ok, so this is just a random one that I got the inspiration for at like one o` clock this morning. It's my first HP fanfic and my first one like this, so please be kind!**

How can no one tell how much I'm broken? Hasn't it been long enough? How much longer do I have to suffer in silence? When can this spell be broken? **How much longer?**

"Lily, are you ok?" I jump slightly at the sudden noise from behind me. It was only James, I scold myself, why do I have to be such an idiot all of the time? I mean seriously, getting frightened just because James-**bloody**-Potter comes up behind me. My own idiocy does not cease to amaze me.

"Lily," he says again. Why can't he just leave me alone? Can he still not tell that I don't want to talk to him? Haven't I rejected him enough? I thought seventh years were supposed to be smarter than that by now, even if it is James.

"**Lily**," he says my name yet again. Maybe I should just answer him. Wouldn't that be more simple, to answer him and act like everything's ok? Or better yet, tell him everything. Then he could get me out of that horrid place where all they do is sneer at me, and yell at me, and hurt me.

"_**Lily**_," he says, seeming to get desperate. Perhaps that means he really would get me out of there if I told him…Oh, who am I kidding? No can get me out. No one.

"Please Lily," he seems to be getting very anxious now, and it's only then I realize I've been shaking this whole time. How could I be so reckless? What if he realizes that something isn't right? But he's already realized that, hasn't he, you stupid pathetic freak. Aren't I showing him right now how weak I am, how unworthy I am of everyone? And if he finds out because of this, he'll truly realize how pitiful I am. That I'm a witch, however freaky I may be, that couldn't even stand up to three people. Then he'll just make fun of me for it. Because it's **stupid**.

Or better yet he'll tell them that I told. He'll tell them everything just to get to me. All of these seven years that he's liked me won't even matter anymore to him. He'll regret all of the time because he'll finally realize that I'm obtuse and weird, and he'll then blame me for not telling him sooner so that he could've chased after some other girl.

"Is this better?" he asks, as he lays me down in the grass beneath the large tree standing tall in front of the lake. When did we get outside? **How** did we get outside? Surely he didn't carry me, did he? Oh no, he's really going to hate me for that when he finds out the truth. But who says he even has to? Certainly not me.

"Will you please tell me what's wrong," he says, for some reason catching me off guard by the question.

"Nothing," but I've blurted it out to quickly, and now he really knows that something is wrong. How is it even possible to be such a fool? His face takes on an even greater look of concern, and no matter how much I don't want to admit it, it almost pains me to see him look so upset. This man, this new and caring James, should not be hurting. It's not fair that I'm the one that made that look appear on his face, that look that's growing more anxious by the minute.

"Please don't lie to me Lily. I'm only trying to help you," he says, trying to coax the information out of me. I cannot yet tell if his tactic will work, and that annoys me to no end. I don't want to tell him, no matter how much I want to be free of that place. And if I don't want to tell him than why should I have to? I don't have to. I can get out of that place myself…Maybe.

And if I can't get out of that place myself then I can live with that…but for how long? How much longer can I go on living in that hell hole? Even if I deserve to be there, which I most definitely do, that doesn't make it any easier to stomach. The only thing that ever makes it easier to handle is the knowledge that I may some day be set free, but if even that is taken away from me, then what do I have? Would I still be able to bear it if I knew that I passed up on what may be my only opportunity to tell someone?

But what if I do tell him, and he miraculously believes me, but he can't do anything to help me? What would become of me if I knew I poured my heart out to him, only for him to not be able to help me? Wouldn't that just make things worse than they already are, having to go through the day with those people, only with the gained understanding that I made someone else upset because of my own burden? How long would I be able to go on like that?...But how long will I be able to go on like this?

"Lily," he sighs and it's only now that I realize it's getting darker, and the rest of the school is most likely having dinner right now. It only makes me feel worse for making him stay out here for so long. It's stupid that I can't just get up and leave, or at least pluck up enough courage to tell him.

He sighs again and lays back from his sitting position so that he's now right next to me. He's close enough for our arms to be touching, and though it's not much, it's enough to make me turn my head towards him. He follows my example so that now we're both just laying there, looking at each other, and for whatever reason his gaze helps me put my jumbled thoughts to rest for the time being. I'm no longer shaking, and my internal debate has ceased.

And though things are nowhere near perfect in that moment, him simply looking at me like that, like he truly cares, is enough for me to realize that he **can** help me. Things don't have to be so bad anymore, because he'll help me through it. And so while the rest of the school sits in the Great Hall, eating their dinner, James and I continue to lay there.

"Lily," he says again, though it's no longer desperate, more like he's simply letting himself do something he enjoys. It makes me want to be closer to him, and so I scoot closer, allowing myself this comfort. I roll onto my side and drape one of my arms across his chest. He puts his arm around me and starts stroking my hair with his hand, and though I flinch at first, it doesn't take long for me to relax into him. And as I close my eyes and allow myself to feel what I've been denying for quite some time now a voice in the back of my head tells me that things will be better, and to just give things a little bit longer.

**Ok, so what do y'all think? Personally I like it. I got the idea while reading this other fanfiction, don't remember the name of it, and it's slightly similar. They're both in the Marauders era, have kinda the same writing format, and both deal with abuse, but that's pretty much it. **

**And for anyone who's confused about the format, it's pretty much written the way you would think...Mostly.**

**Anyway, I hope you liked it, and if you did please review. Heck, if you didn't please review and tell me what I could change to make it better.**

**Yours Truly,**

**Emily **


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